One man and his dog
by ytteb
Summary: A sick Tony is given an assignment a bit out of his comfort zone but DiNozzos can cope with most things, can't they? Most of the team involved at some point.
1. Chapter 1

"Jethro!" said Ducky in an annoyed voice, "you haven't listened to what I said."

"Sure, I have, Duck," said Gibbs, "I heard every word."

"But you haven't _listened_," said Ducky.

"Duck," said Gibbs wearily, "I haven't got time for this, I'm tired, we're all tired."

"Precisely my point, Jethro, you and your team have been working full pelt for weeks. You need a change of pace, some downtime."

"We'll be fine, Duck," said Gibbs.

"_You_ may well be fine," said Ducky, "you are too stubborn not to be _fine_ but I am concerned about your team. Timothy is jumpy and anxious after days of trying to trace the hackers: he needs some time away from a computer screen."

"Duck, you know as well as I do that if I give McGee time off he'll shut himself up in his apartment and do battle with his cyber friends till he falls asleep on his keyboard."

"Then you need to think of something that will take him away from his virtual world, Gibbs. He needs some time in the real world."

"I think he's had enough of the real world," observed Gibbs drily.

"Indeed, the case with Giovanni Pasquale was especially nasty," said Ducky, "which is all the more reason why Timothy should not spend time alone brooding over it all."

Gibbs suppressed a sigh as he feared that his own decompressing time alone in his basement might be under threat. He brightened momentarily as he thought of a way of solving the problem. Ducky was, however, skilled in the art of reading Gibbs and correctly divined the thought process,

"And don't think that telling Anthony to spend time with Timothy is the answer to this particular problem," he warned.

"Why not?" asked Gibbs, "DiNozzo will distract McGee, it's his speciality."

"Because Anthony is in no fit state to be supporting Timothy. Which is what I have been trying to tell you."

"He's fine, Duck, a couple days rest and he'll be good as new."

"Good heavens," huffed Ducky, "I despair. Anthony has been working as hard as you and Timothy these last few days while struggling through an attack of bronchitis which should have seen him resting quietly at home, not working every hour God sends and searching all those damp warehouses down by the waterfront."

"Job had to be done, Duck," said Gibbs.

"Indeed," agreed Ducky, "and now it is done and you need to have a care for your team."

"You know I don't do the touchy-feely stuff," said Gibbs barely suppressing a sigh.

"Tough love is not always the answer, Jethro, and I'm not sure it's what Anthony needs at the moment. I trust you have noticed that he seems rather dispirited at the moment?"

Gibbs nodded and in that brisk nod, Ducky realised that Gibbs had noticed and was worried.

"Anthony and Timothy will be arriving for work soon, Jethro. You need to think what you're going to do."

NCISNCIS

Special Agent Tim McGee barely had the energy to press the up button on the elevator; he wondered tiredly how he had managed to drive to work without falling asleep at the wheel. The ding announcing that the elevator had reached his floor jerked him awake so he adjusted his backpack and walked out into the squad room. He hadn't expected Tony to be at work so the cough sounding from the senior field agent's desk took him by surprise.

"Thought Ducky told you to take the day off, Tony?" he said.

"Had this report to finish. Boss-man's not going to go soft on me just because I've got a cold," said Tony.

"It's OK to admit you've got bronchitis," said Tim.

For answer, Tony just scowled and tried not to cough.

"You look awful, by the way," said Tim.

"Whereas you look the picture of health and serenity," snarked Tony.

"At least I slept for a few hours," said Tim, "did you get to bed at all last night?"

"You don't usually want to hear about what I get up to in the bedroom," said Tony with a half-hearted waggle of his eyebrows.

"Tony …" said McGee in a weary voice.

"Gloria and Khartoum have got a new friend," said Tony.

"That's nice. Um, who are they?"

"You remember. Gloria Gordon, one of my neighbours, and Khartoum her pug."

"Nope," said Tim, as he sat at his desk and tried to remember how to switch his computer on.

"Yes, you do," said Tony, "she made that peanut butter gateau the other day."

"Oh, _that_ Gloria," said Tim, "hmmm. That cake was good." He licked his lips in a happy memory, "so, who's the new friend?"

"A yappy, annoying dog. Well, it might not be but it seems that he and Khartoum aren't exactly hitting it off. Hence noise from the Gordon apartment and no sleep for moi," said Tony.

"Why?"

"I don't know! I don't know anything about dogs; how should I know why new dog annoys old dog?"

"No, why she's got another dog?" asked Tim.

"She's looking to the future, she says. Khartoum is a bit elderly so she thought she'd get his replacement ahead of time."

"Wow," said Tim, "that's … er … practical."

"Harsh, I call it," said Tony, "although I guess one of _us_ is Gibbs' spare."

Tim frowned at this but was too weary to begin an argument with Tony over which one of them was the spare.

"Perhaps that's why there's so much noise," said Tony reflectively, "Khartoum is probably picking up on vibes that he's on the skids and is sending out aggressive thoughts to the new kid on the block."

"Wow," said Tim again, "you been talking to Abby? All this psychoanalysis of dogs?"

"Hey," said Tony defensively, "I can do the insightful stuff."

"So," said Tim, "is that what you did when I joined the team?"

"What?"

"You know, thinking you were on the skids so sent out aggressive thoughts towards me?"

"N-o-o-h," said Tony unconvincingly. Then he rallied, "so you saying you were like the annoying yappy dog when you were our baby Probie?"

Tim decided he didn't enough energy for this argument, "so the noise kept you awake last night?"

"Yep."

"You should complain," said Tim.

"Yeah," said Tony, "but I don't want to fall out with her."

"You need your sleep, Tony," pointed out Tim.

"Yeah, but I really like her baking," said the practical Tony, "they'll calm down. Won't they?"

Tim shrugged and then blinked when he realised that he hadn't switched his monitor on. It was going to be a long day.

"Besides," said Tony, "I won't be at home for a few days."

"Why not?" asked Tim.

"The security conference in Chicago," said Tony, "Boss and me will be going later today."

"Why you?" asked Tim.

"Boss always takes me," said Tony, "I add some light relief. I can taste that Italian beef sandwich already," he sighed deeply and then started coughing.

It was at that inopportune moment that Gibbs and Ducky arrived. They took up position by Tony's desk and gazed at him disapprovingly.

"I thought I told you to stay home today, Anthony," admonished Ducky.

"Had to finish my report, Ducky," said Tony, "besides, we're off to the conference today."

"What conference is that, DiNozzo?" asked Gibbs.

"The Chicago conference, Boss."

"What makes you think you're going to it?" said Gibbs.

"Boss, you always take me. I assumed … I thought … but there's a rule about that, isn't there?" said Tony disconsolately.

Gibbs grinned and was about to put Tony out of his misery when the Director arrived with Agent Fornell in tow.

"Tobias," acknowledged Gibbs, "you here for a ride to the airport?"

"I'll pass," said Fornell, "I want to get there in one piece. I'll see you there. If I can get away."

"Something come up?" asked Gibbs, "Pasquale case is all wrapped up. Your Director out for more blood? Thought you said he was gonna give you some downtime?"

"He is. Just got a loose end to tie up. That's why I came to see your Director."

"Who are you planning on taking with you to the conference, Gibbs?" asked Leon.

"DiNozzo," said Gibbs. Tony nodded a little smugly at McGee but then spoiled the effect by coughing.

"Dr Mallard told me earlier that he was concerned about your team, Gibbs," said Leon.

Gibbs glared at Ducky who just shrugged, "The Director asked me how Timothy and Anthony … and you … had coped with the recent heavy work load," he said, "and I …"

"Gave me a report," said Vance, "Agent DiNozzo, I don't think you should be going to the conference."

"Sir?" said Tony in a shocked voice, "but I'm fine."

"You're coughing so much you won't hear any of the presentations," said Vance, "and nobody else will hear them either. Not much of an advertisement for the agency to send a representative who sounds as if he's about to cough up a lung."

"But," protested Tony, "I'll be …"

"Staying here," ordered Vance, "Gibbs, take Agent McGee instead. It'll be good experience for him."

Tony looked hopefully at Gibbs to see if he would argue against this directive. Gibbs opened his mouth to do just that but then it occurred to him that this could be a partial answer to Ducky's anxieties. Taking McGee to the conference would take him away from his computers and prevent him brooding over the events of recent days. Gibbs knew he would miss Tony's company but it meant that Tony would get some rest.

"You heard the Director, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, rather unfairly implying that the Director's word was always law in Gibbs's world. "Stay here. Take it easy for a few days, get better," he added in a softer tone.

Tony's face fell at being told to stay behind.

"DiNutso could take care of that loose end for me," said Fornell.

Vance looked surprised but then nodded, "All right. You can explain it to him," and with that he was gone.

"What loose end?" asked Gibbs, unsure that he liked the sound of this. He had sacrificed taking Tony to Chicago so he could regroup a bit, not take on an FBI assignment.

Fornell grinned, one of his knowing grins. "Pasquale's dog," he said.

"What about it?" asked Tony suspiciously.

"It's simple, DiNutso," said Fornell, "NCIS and the Bureau are taking charge of all of Pasquale's belongings. Turns out he had a dog as well."

"So?" asked Tony.

"FBI is taking responsibility for all the … er … non-breathing goods. NCIS, or rather you, has the livestock. Just for a few days."

"Boss?" said Tony in something like panic, "you know I'm not good with animals. And all that hair, it'll get everywhere."

"I think it's a splendid idea," said Ducky. Tony turned wounded, reproachful eyes on him but Ducky was unrepentant. "Taking the dog for walks will get you out into the fresh air which will be good for your lungs. You won't want to leave a strange dog alone in your apartment so you will be home early which will be restful for you."

"Spending long nights in my apartment with a strange dog will be _restful_?" said Tony incredulously.

"Yes," said Ducky firmly, "it will be. Doctor's orders, Anthony."

"Boss?" wailed Tony.

"Suck it up, DiNozzo," said Gibbs, "may be it won't be so bad. See you when we get back. McGee, go home and pack."

"Come down to the car park, DiNutso," said Fornell who, in Tony's opinion, was having entirely too much fun, "and I'll hand the hound over to you."

"Hey, Tony," said a revitalised Tim, "I can email you a link to a site on dog care if you want."

"Hmmph," grumbled Tony.

"Or you could visit Gloria," suggested Tim, "she could give you some tips."

"Enjoy Chicago," snarled Tony, "all that alone time with the Boss and Fornell? You'll have a great time."

Tim swallowed nervously as the implications of the conference began to sink in.

"What you waiting for, McGee?" asked Gibbs, "Time's a wasting."

"On it, Boss," said McGee, "On it."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Gloria Gordon and Khartoum the pug have had walk on parts in previous stories …<em>


	2. Chapter 2

Tony woke up coughing and then cursed as his new canine companion barked. Tony had thought that dogs were meant to be intelligent but he was having doubts. Ruskin was friendly enough but had decided that Tony's coughs were a human equivalent of barking so, when Tony coughed, Ruskin barked. This meant that, although the noise from Gloria's apartment had diminished, that in Tony's had gone up and he had had another sleepless night.

Deciding to give up on sleep, Tony walked unsteadily into the living room and noted morosely that his couch showed signs of the dog hair he had predicted. He had tried to make Ruskin stay on the rug in front of the fire but the dog seemed to crave human company even it was only an unwilling Tony: this meant that he had spent the evening with his head on Tony's leg and politely echoing each of his host's coughs. Tony continued into the kitchen with a faithful, and hopeful, Ruskin at his heels.

Tony had taken Tim's advice and gone to see Gloria the night before and, among other things, she had given him a bag of kibble for Ruskin to eat until Tony could get to the pet store to get some more supplies.

"And won't that be a treat?" grumbled Tony, "a visit to the pet store? Great!"

Ruskin looked puzzled at the tone of Tony's words but fixed his eyes on him in the hope that kibble would be coming his way.

"Sorry, boy," said Tony, "not your fault. Don't tell the Boss I said sorry."

Ruskin sat on Tony's feet and huffed a sigh. Tony found himself oddly moved by this apparent gesture of support and tossed a few pieces of kibble on to the floor. Ruskin jumped up with alacrity and chased the kibble round the room; Tony sighed,

"Might have known. Cupboard love, that's all I get."

The dog looked up briefly from the absorbing task of rounding up all the kibble but then spotted a piece under a stool. He scrabbled towards it but his feet slithered out of control and he slid into the stool and knocked it over. Tony laughed at Ruskin's outraged expression and then laughed again as Ruskin tried to pretend that nothing had happened. The laugh turned into a cough and Ruskin coughed in unison.

"Stay here," ordered Tony, "I'm going to have a shower."

The dog tried to follow him but Tony managed to get to the bathroom first and shut him out. Perhaps, Tony reasoned afterwards, it was his fault for lingering in the shower but he didn't normally have house guests who tore up the soft furnishings if left to their own devices for ten minutes. At least it was only a cushion which Ruskin seemed to have taken a destructive fancy to but Tony began to understand the wisdom of Ducky's words about not leaving a strange dog alone in his apartment. He was grateful that he had dispensed with his deep-pore cleansing and exfoliation routine. Then something reached Tony's nostrils and he realised that the sound of the shower running might have had an unfortunate effect on Ruskin _and_ that he should have attended to the dog's _bathroom_ requirements before his own.

Tony sighed and followed his nose to track down the site of Ruskin's misdemeanours. Ruskin had, in fact, tried to be helpful and had answered nature's call on the tiles of the kitchen rather than the polished wooden floors of the rest of the apartment. Tony found Ruskin huddled in a corner with a shamefaced look on his face. Tony shook his head at the absurdity of thinking that an animal could look ashamed but couldn't help but wonder if this was how _he_ looked sometimes when caught by Gibbs in the midst of some absurdity.

"OK, boy," said Tony, "not your fault. Again. Can you wait a few minutes? Just while I get some clothes on?"

Ruskin gazed up at Tony but, as he wasn't scratching at the door, Tony guessed he had a few moments' grace so hurried into his bedroom and threw some clothes on. Ruskin followed Tony politely into the elevator, across the road and into the park and then looked puzzled as Tony pointed to a bush and said, "Go!" It seemed that Ruskin wanted to please so finally he padded over to the bush, sniffed it and then sat down beside it. Tony continued to stare intently at Ruskin who gazed placidly back. It dawned on Tony that Ruskin had taken care of his needs in the kitchen and didn't need to 'go'. Tony sighed and thrust his hands into his pockets, suddenly aware of the chill of the early morning. He took his hands out of his pockets and called, "OK, let's go back!"

Ruskin jumped up excitedly, looked at Tony's hands and quivered in expectation. Tony felt an increasingly familiar sense of bewilderment and wished that he spoke 'dog'. He put his hands back in his pockets and the dog seemed to deflate.

"He wants to play fetch," said a park attendant who was emptying trash cans, taking pity on Ruskin and his hapless human.

"Fetch?" said Tony blankly, "Fetch what?"

"Anything you throw," said the park attendant.

"I knew that," said Tony defensively.

"New to dog ownership, are you?"

"Er …"

"Because you shouldn't have your dog off the leash here."

"Oh," said Tony.

"And it's a good thing your dog didn't poop over there. You'd have got a ticket."

"Uh?"

"You need to get some poop bags," said Tony's new friend, "you can get them from the pet store."

"Great," said Tony, "looking forward to it."

He bent down and picked Ruskin up, not wanting to get in trouble for him being off the leash.

"Thanks," he said, as he turned to go.

"You can let him off the leash on the other side of the park," said the attendant, "there's a special dog area there."

"Oh, thanks, er …"

"Sid," said the attendant, "looks like a nice dog. Friendly."

"Thank you, Sid," said Tony, "well, I'd better be going. Ruskin wants to go shopping."

"See you around," said Sid, turning back to his trash cans.

Tony's progress back to his apartment was hindered by a couple of young women who were out jogging and were distracted by the sight of Tony carrying Ruskin.

"Oh, look, Cherry," said the skinny blonde one, "look at the cute dog."

"He's so _adorable," _cooed the curvaceous brunette, "Serena, I could just eat him."

Cherry and Serena stopped and patted and petted Ruskin who obligingly licked their hands. Tony admired the scenery and decided he didn't mind that the two girls … sorry, women, kept accidentally touching him as they patted Ruskin. Tony watched as beads of perspiration rolled across the joggers' chests and began to see the advantages of a canine companion. It was the first time Tony had managed to get the attention of female joggers without running himself and he began to enjoy himself. Unfortunately, standing in the chilly air brought on an attack of coughing and a sympathetic echo of barking from Ruskin: Cherry and Serena seemed to find this less attractive and made their excuses and ran off.

Ruskin sighed and laid his head disconsolately on Tony's arm as his new friends departed; he seemed to like company. It came on to rain so Tony decided to go back to the apartment. Tony's increased friendly feelings towards Ruskin were fated to fade. He met Maria, his cleaner, in the lobby of the apartment building.

"Ciao, Tony," she greeted him, "I did not know you had a dog?"

"He arrived last night, Maria."

"Does he bite?"

"Not yet?" said Tony cautiously.

Maria reached out a hand tentatively and patted Ruskin on the head. Ruskin breathed heavily and shifted his head in a hint that he would like his left ear scratched. Maria obliged and he sighed contentedly. Tony sighed too as he admired Ruskin's technique. They got into the elevator and went up to Tony's apartment. Tony courteously opened the door and beckoned to Maria to go in first. She did, and then stopped so abruptly that Tony had difficulty in preventing himself from careering into her. Maria looked in horror at the feathers liberally distributed over the living room floor and at the dog hair on the couch; Tony held his breath as he waited for an outburst but Maria held it together and refrained from criticism. She shook her head and tried for a resigned smile,

"I will make you a coffee, yes?" she said, "You do not look at all well, you know."

"Thank you, Maria," said Tony, aiming for a look somewhere between pathetic and brave.

Maria was fond of Tony so she went to make him a special cup of coffee. As was her custom, Maria kicked her shoes off as she started work. Tony smiled at this idiosyncrasy and went to sit on the messy couch; it was only as he tossed the ruined cushion on to the floor that he remembered why it would be a bad idea, a very bad idea, for Maria to walk barefooted in the kitchen.

"Maria!" he shouted.

Too late. A scream of anger echoed from the kitchen and Tony had a feeling that it wasn't because Maria had trodden on a stray piece of kibble. He was right. Maria stormed out of the kitchen and gave a very detailed description of how unpleasant it had been to tread in the _something not so special_ that Ruskin had left on the floor. Ruskin, an intelligent animal, knew this was about him and he jumped on to Tony's lap in fright. Ruskin wasn't a big dog but he was muscular, solid and heavy … especially when landing unexpectedly in one of Tony's tender areas. The dog scrabbled to get away, increasing Tony's distress: it was probably as well for Ruskin's sensitive doggie hearing that Tony was temporarily breathless and unable to join in with Maria's vocal outrage. He finally managed to push himself off Tony's lap and scuttled to a place of safety under the piano from where he peered out uncertainly.

Maria's anger was appeased somewhat by the sight of her employer's suffering and, when his agony began to wane, Tony also began to see the funny side of what had happened. He laughed at Maria's mishap and she laughed at his. Ruskin decided to stay where he was until the noise had abated.

When Tony felt able to stand, he went into the kitchen and mopped up Ruskin's mishap; Maria was a treasure but, he felt, the pool on the tiles was a line she would be unwilling to cross. Tony looked at his watch and realised that it was time to go to work. Part of him wanted to go back to bed and sleep but he knew that would be impossible with a rampant Maria on a cleaning jag and besides, he hated being off sick and thought he might be able to avoid Ducky. He considered asking Maria to keep an eye on Ruskin while he went to work but quickly thought better of that so called to Ruskin,

"Come on, boy. Let's go."

He collected his keys and strode to the door but then realised that Ruskin hadn't obeyed the summons. He looked back and saw that the dog was still sheltering under the piano. Tony sighed and went nearer,

"Come on, boy," he said, trying to keep the impatience out of his voice. Ruskin stayed where he was. Tony sighed again and knelt on the floor and peered under the piano, "_Unbelievable,"_ he said to himself, "Come on, boy," he said again in a gentle voice, "it's all right I'm not mad. I've always wanted to sing soprano." Ruskin gazed at him but didn't move, "Ruskie," said Tony beseechingly, "come on, we'll have fun." The dog stayed where he was and Tony continued to talk soothingly until, finally, Ruskin came out slowly. Tony breathed a sigh of relief although he wasn't sure that he hadn't just been played.

Ruskin seemed to enjoy the trip to the Navy Yard and was happy to be left with the security guard when they arrived. Tony decided to go straight to his desk and hope that Ducky would not have any reason to come visit the empty squad room. He rested his head wearily on one hand and closed his eyes briefly so did not see the Director standing at the top of the stairs and looking down thoughtfully. Tony had just roused himself enough to switch on his computer when a visitor arrived,

"Anthony," came Ducky's voice, "I was under the impression that you were going to taking some sick leave."

"Ducky," said Tony with a falsely welcoming smile, "I'm fine. I'll just sit here quietly and do … work," and he bent his head again to his computer.

"Anthony," said Ducky, "you look exhausted. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Not much," admitted Tony, "my new house-mate was a bit restless."

"Then go home and sleep," urged Ducky.

"Still got the house-mate," pointed out Tony, "besides the Director won't want the whole of the team out."

"It was the Director who alerted me that you were at work," said Ducky, "I don't think he expected you to be here today."

"Ducky," protested Tony, "I can't take time off for a cold."

"It's more than a cold, Anthony, and nobody will think the worse of you for staying at home while you are unwell."

"Ducky …" said Tony, looking up with a hint of despair in his voice.

Ducky gazed down at Tony and decided to switch tactics, "Come down to Autopsy. I have the results of your blood tests back, let me go over them with you and we will consider the best treatment regimen." Ducky thought that Tony was going to defy him so continued to stare at him implacably. The Ducky stare was not as efficient as Gibbs' but Tony was tired and sick so it had its intended effect.

"OK, Ducky," said Tony, "let's do this," and he got up and trailed disconsolately after Ducky.

At a nod from Ducky, Palmer was dispatched on an errand to Abby when Tony and the doctor entered Autopsy.

"Good news, Anthony," said Ducky, "the blood tests show no bacterial involvement so you do not need to be taking any antibiotics. You just need rest, lots of fluids and some simple painkillers to address any feverish symptoms."

Tony didn't look particularly cheered by this version of good news.

"Anthony? This is good news. Follow my instruction and, in a week or so, most of your symptoms will have gone. That cough will take a little more time but you will recover."

"Thanks, Ducky," said Tony, getting up to go.

"Tony?" pressed Ducky, "what's the matter?"

"I have bronchitis, weren't you listening?"

"Indeed, I was. Perhaps it is you who were not listening. This illness will pass."

"So long as I'm _sensible."_

"Assuredly."

"Ducky, I'm a federal agent. I can't coddle myself. Gibbs won't want an agent who can't go out into the cold or damp. He's already left me behind and taken Tim off to Chicago."

"Aah," said Ducky.

"He's probably already grooming McGee to take over," said Tony, "he's _always_ taken me to that conference, it was part of my job as Senior Field Agent."

"Anthony," said Ducky, "you would have struggled with the conference. The Director was right when he said that you would have been coughing too much to hear what was going on."

"Well, yeah," said Tony, "the Director is always on the lookout for a chance to get rid of me."

"Anthony," said Ducky, "I advised Gibbs that he needed to find a way to support Timothy in recovering from his exertions in the Pasquale case. I was concerned that he would shut himself into his apartment and lose himself in his computer. I consider that he needs to remain in the real world as a way to recover his equilibrium."

"Ducky," sighed Tony, "you're like Gibbs in your suspicions of cyber world. Playing war-games isn't my way of relaxing but it is for Tim."

"Perhaps," said Ducky, "nevertheless, I believe that Timothy's attendance at the conference will be beneficial for him and that rest at home will be good for you."

"Rest?" spluttered Tony, "you're forgetting about Ruskin."

"Ruskin?" said Ducky, "are you sure you're not running a fever again? Perhaps I should take your temperature?"

"What? I'm fine."

"Then why are you worried about the English Victorian social thinker and artist?" asked Ducky, "I'm aware that you have an unusual range of interests but I have never heard you talking about Victorian England before."

"Ruskin," said Tony patiently, "is the dog I'm looking after. I seem to remember that you thought looking after a dog would be good for me."

"How unusual," mused Ducky, "and is Ruskin not proving to be a restful companion?"

"Hardly," said Tony and gave Ducky a brief account of Ruskin's exploits so far.

"I see," said Ducky, "do you need me to make an examination of the area that Ruskin … assaulted?"

"No need," said Tony hastily, "I've had worse playing football."

"If you say so," said Ducky, "but Anthony, I don't think you need to be concerned that Jethro, or the Director, are looking to remove you from your position on the team."

"What about the bronchitis?" asked Tony.

"This is the first attack you have had since you had the pneumonic plague. I do not believe that it is the result of your lungs being scarred because of that illness. Yes, you may get it again but we are none of us perfect. Timothy has his allergies and fear of heights. Jethro has occasional trouble with his knees. In my medical opinion, you have many years ahead of being a field agent. Is this what has been worrying you?"

"I wasn't worried," lied Tony.

"Of course not," agreed Ducky, "and there was no need for you to be worried. If, of course, you had been. Which you were not."

"Thanks, Ducky," sighed Tony, "but I really wish I could have gone on that conference."

"I didn't realise that you were such a fan of such things," said Ducky.

"It's the people you meet, the stories you hear," said Tony, "and the conference centre makes this amazing Italian beef sandwich. And the agenda had a Chicago hot dog buffet laid on this year. Have you ever tasted a Chicago hot dog?"

"I have missed that opportunity," said Ducky drily, "but this makes me even more sure you should not have gone. You should be eating fresh, healthy food, not food that has had the goodness processed out of it."

"Hmmm, processed food," said Tony meditatively. "I wonder how little Timmy will cope with finding that I had to book a family room at the hotel?"

"Family room?" said Ducky, "why is that?"

"By the time we knew we could go, everything else was booked," said Tony, "so I had to book a room with three beds."

"Three beds? Who else is going?"

"In the 'interests of interagency co-operation, and budget restraints'," quoted Tony, "Agent Fornell was going to share with us."

"So Timothy will be sharing a room with Tobias and Jethro?" Tony nodded. "Oh, my," said Ducky as he pictured the scene.

"Yeah, it almost makes up for being left behind with a mutt," said Tony.

"And placed on sick leave for five days," said Ducky firmly, "and do not argue with me, Anthony. I have already sent the paperwork to Human Resources for the special attention of Delores Bromstead. And you know that she will be diligent in enforcing it."

"Busted," said Tony, "OK, I'll go quietly. Just got to go down to the evidence garage and then I'll collect the pooch and we'll go shopping."

"Shopping?" asked Ducky.

"Oh, yes, Dr Mallard, Ruskin needs something for me to throw at him and I …"

"What do you need, Anthony?"

"Oh, I need poop bags. And possibly a new cleaner."


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: there is a reference in this chapter to a place that has cropped up in a couple of previous stories but you don't need to have read those stories for this to make sense._

* * *

><p>"Ducky. DiNozzo here. I've decided to head up to Milsom Bay. I think the shack is more Ruskin's style than my apartment is. Easier just to push him out into the yard there. See you when I get back. Ciao."<p>

Ducky smiled approvingly when he listened to the message when he arrived at work the next day. Milsom Bay was a quiet spot on the North Carolina coast where Tony had, what he called, a shack in the grounds of a cabin belonging to John Sutherland, a local artist. It was a peaceful community where Tony had made good friends and Ducky thought it would be a suitable place for Tony to recuperate even if he wasn't sure that a five or six hour drive was the best thing for Tony at the moment. Ducky put that thought aside as he turned to his exploration of the latest cadaver provided by NCIS.

NCISNCIS

In fact Tony didn't make it to Milsom Bay. Tony rather enjoyed his visit to the pet store. Ruskin's universal appeal rubbed off on Tony so he felt as if he was in the entourage of a popular boy band. The young assistant was more than helpful and even demonstrated how to use the poop bags although Tony thought that his years of experience at bagging and tagging at crime scenes meant that he would have no trouble in avoiding touching the poop when picking it up. He also bought some different types of dog food, a ball, a brush and comb and, with some misgiving, a squeaky toy. Ruskin waved his tail happily at each acquisition and didn't seem to mind that Tony chose the cheapest options; Tony was, after all, unsure whether he could claim any of this back on expenses.

The apartment had been back to its usual post-Maria state when they got back there but Tony felt weary at the thought of having to keep taking Ruskin across to the park for a walk and then trailing after him with a poop bag; it would all be simpler he thought, if he lived somewhere with a yard. And then, almost unbidden, came the thought of his bolt hole in Milsom Bay where John and Millie, the café owner, would give him a warm welcome; where he could take the healthful walks recommended by Ducky and eat Millie's home cooked food which Ducky would also commend.

Ruskin looked askance at being on the move again but went along obediently enough. Tony felt a moment or two of sympathy for him; he wondered if these switches of home were like a twelve year old boy being shipped off to boarding school. Half way through the drive to North Carolina, however, Tony began to think this was a bad idea. He was so tired that he was in danger of falling asleep at the wheel and he couldn't imagine what sort of head slap Gibbs would deliver if he was in a pile-up as a result of driving when unable to keep his eyes open.

He lowered the window to get as much fresh air in as possible and turned the radio up louder. Ruskin looked at him with hurt bewilderment and hunkered down into the back seat. Tony was just beginning to think they would have to sleep in the car when he saw a sign for a campsite on the edge of the George Washington National Forest and gratefully pulled in. It seemed that the owner was equally grateful for an unexpected visitor at a quiet time of year and pointed him in the direction of a cabin with its own designated yard area.

After little more than a few grunts of conversation, Tony lurched into the cabin, swung his baggage onto the floor and sank into a comfortable chair ready to fall asleep. As his eyes slid shut, he coughed and he heard Ruskin's answering echo reminding him that he had company. He opened his eyes and saw the dog looking at him intently. Tony considered. He seemed to remember Ruskin finding a handy tree while he was unloading the car so he probably didn't need to go out again. What else might a dog need? A rumbling from his own stomach gave him the answer and, reluctantly, he heaved himself out of his chair and unpacked Ruskin's bowls and put some kibble in one and water in the other. As an afterthought he put the new toy on the floor and then went back to his chair, sleep seemed more important than food at the moment.

Tony woke a couple of hours later feeling both hot and cold. He thought for a moment that he was running a fever but then realised that, while his hands and feet were cold, his chest and neck were toasty warm because Ruskin had draped himself like a canine afghan over Tony and was sound asleep. Tony smiled, it felt rather nice to wake up to a warm body who wouldn't post on Facebook that they were in a committed relationship.

Tony jumped when he heard a knock at the door and realised that was probably what had woken him up.

"Some guard dog, you are," he muttered as he struggled to shift Ruskin off his chest. The dog made the same disgruntled noise that Tony made when his alarm went off in the morning. Tony opened the door to see Josie, the campsite owner standing there.

"Hi," she said, "There's no smoke coming out the chimney."

"Uh?" said Tony.

"The wood-burner. Aren't you cold?"

"Uh, yes, I s'pose so. Ruskin was keeping me warm."

"That's nice," said Josie, looking as puzzled as Ducky had earlier in the day.

"Ruskin's the dog," said Tony.

"OK. D'you want me to show you how to use the wood-burner?"

Part of Tony wanted to deny that he needed help but the other, bigger and needier, part really wanted to be warm.

"Thank you," he said, "that would be great."

"It's simple," she said, "and there's more wood just by the door if you need it."

Lighting the wood-burner was indeed simple and Tony breathed a sigh of relief that he wouldn't need to call on any Gibbs or McGee-like woodsmen skills to keep warm. As the cabin began to fill with warmth Ruskin detached himself from the cooling spot on the armchair and came to inspect the fire. He sat on Josie's feet as a mark of approval.

"Cute dog," she said, bending down to pat him, "had him long?"

"No, I'm just looking after him for … a friend."

"Oh. He's a Cavachon isn't he?"

"A what?"

"It's a cross between a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and a Bichon Frise."

"Is that a good thing? I'm not really into dogs."

"Designer dog," sniffed Josie.

"Designer dog?" said Tony feeling pleased, "you mean like Gucci or Zegna?"

"What?" said Josie blankly. "No, designer dogs are where two breeds are mated to create a dog with certain characteristics from each breed."

"What are Cavachons bred for?"

"Judging by this one, cuteness," said Josie drily, as she looked down to where Ruskin still sat on her feet. "He needs a good brush, though. Have you got a brush for him?"

"Yeah," said Tony, "I'll get on to it."

"Do you need any supplies? I can open the shop up for you."

"Nah, I'm good. Picked some stuff up on my way down."

"OK. Let me know if you need anything. How long you staying?"

"I'll move on tomorrow," said Tony, "just needed to catch up on some sleep."

"Stay as long as you want," said Josie, "I'm not going to be round much the next few days. I'll be back each night but I'm helping out my daughter with her new baby for a while. If I'm not here when you want to go just push the money through my door."

"You're very trusting," said Tony.

"You've got an honest face," said Josie, "you get an instinct after you've been doing this as long as I have. Besides, it won't cost me a fortune if you run off without paying."

"Thanks," said Tony. He was about to say more but started coughing.

"None of my business," said Josie, "but I'd say you'd be better off holing up here for a while rather than driving. Weather's getting colder out there."

"I'll be fine," said Tony, "just getting over a cold, that's all."

"Sounds like bronchitis to me," said Josie dubiously, "my grandfather had bronchitis."

"Oh?" said Tony.

"Killed him," said Josie sadly.

Tony frowned, he had been beginning to like Josie but now he saw that she was as depressing as everyone else on the subject of _bad colds_. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said a little insincerely.

"But he was 102," she said cheerfully, "I'll bring you some chicken stew over. I made too much. It'll do you good."

Tony was about to argue but had a feeling it would be as pointless as arguing with Gibbs.

"Thanks," he said, "I'll start brushing Ruskin," and he bent down to shift Ruskin off Josie's feet.

Tony shifted the chair nearer the wood-burner and found the dog brush and comb. He had just settled himself on the floor with his back to the chair when his cell rang,

"McConference," he said, "What can I do for you? How's Chicago? Windy?"

"Tony," said McGee with a hint of panic in his voice, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"That I'd be sleeping with Gibbs and Fornell?"

"Agent McGee," drawled Tony, "you _dog,_ you. I didn't know you had it in you."

"Tony!" snapped McGee, "you know what I mean. I'm sharing a _family_ room with Gibbs and Fornell."

"Well," said Tony sententiously, "we are all meant to be one big happy federal family."

"Tony! There's another three days to go. What am I going to do? I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Why not? Gibbs doesn't snore. Don't know about Fornell. _I've_ never shared a room with him, you're the expert."

"Neither of them snore," said McGee.

"That's good then," said Tony, "what's the problem?"

"They're both incredibly light sleepers. And they sleep with their guns. I'm terrified that if I fall asleep I'll snore or talk and wake them up. And even without guns they're pretty scary."

"You won't wake them up," said Tony soothingly, "they're just adjusting the first night. Once they get used to the noises, including yours, they won't wake up unless something odd happens. It'll be like sleeping with the best guard dogs in the world, you'll be in the safest place in the universe. Well, perhaps not the universe. Safest place in America … or perhaps just Chicago … well, definitely the safest place in the hotel. You're golden."

"You sure?" said Tim, apparently reassured by this rambling.

"McDopey," said Tony, "the Boss and Fornell won't expect you to stay awake all night. They're human … if you dig deep enough. Besides, they'll need you at your best to do all those coffee runs."

"Yeah," said Tim, "that didn't go very well either."

"What did you do, McErrand?"

"Got the coffee from the machine in the conference centre lobby," admitted Tim.

"Rookie error," said Tony, "listen. Just across the street from the conference centre is a place called Serafina's Coffee Palace. Go there, get Gibbs a Brazilian Venti … better make it two … and you'll tame the beast."

"Thanks, Tony," said Tim as he scribbled down the details, "what about Fornell?"

"He's not so fussy," said Tony, "just bring him something with cream and sugar."

"OK," said Tim, "they miss you here, you know."

"Who do?"

"_Everyone._ The staff at the hotel, at the conference centre, the delegates. They're all asking where you are."

"That's nice," said Tony feeling a warmth which had nothing to do with the wood-burner, "that's nice."

"Yeah," said Tim who then spoiled the effect by adding, "It means they have to deal with Gibbs directly."

"Oh," said Tony in a disappointed voice.

"Just kidding," said Tim, "they do miss you. Er, Tony?"

"Yes?"

"What does it mean if Gibbs raises his left eyebrow and rubs his chin at the same time?"

"Is he smiling?"

"_Smiling_?" asked McGee incredulously.

"Sorry. Silly question. Well, it's difficult to tell without seeing him. It either means the coffee is cold or someone's just called him Leroy."

"Really? You should do what Abby's done."

"What, drink fifteen CafPows or adopt a one-legged rabbit?"

"No. Abby's got her 'Abby's lab for dummies', you should do a 'Gibbs for dummies' for the times when we have to go it alone without you."

"You'll be fine, Tim," said Tony reassuringly, "but just in case, I'd hop across to Serafina's if I was you."

"Good thought," said Tim, "hey, how's the pooch sitting going?"

"Couldn't be better," said Tony, "I'm about to brush him."

"Really?" said Tim, "I didn't think they … oops, better go. Gibbs just raised his right eyebrow as well!"

"Go, my man," said Tony, "that sounds like a crisis in the brewing. Ciao."

Tony ended the call, "that was fun. Hey, Rusk. Fancy a visit to the beauty parlour?"

Ruskin nodded agreeably so Tony began to brush him. Ruskin was definitely a sociable animal and loved Tony brushing him. What was more surprising was that Tony found himself enjoying it too, there was something very soothing about grooming him and feeling the fur become smooth and silky under his touch.

"Had a rough few days, haven't you, boy," said Tony, "all these changes of people and places. Being left behind. I know how that feels."

Ruskin gazed at Tony as if he understood every word and licked Tony's hand as encouragement.

"I could get used to this," said Tony, "having someone agree with what I say all the time. I think I'm done. Why not play with your new toy?" He tossed him the new squeaky toy which Tony had bought partly because it was cheap but also because the little creature had a wide-eyed look that reminded him of McGee in his early days on the team. "Here you are. Play with McProbie."

Ruskin caught the new toy and then dropped it when it squeaked. This began a lively game of Ruskin jumping on McProbie and then dropping him and picking him up again. Tony watched and laughed until he heard the door knock again. He went to open the door and found Josie standing there with the promised casserole.

"Hey," he turned back to silence Ruskin, "hush, I'm talking with Josie."

Ruskin dropped the toy immediately but looked a bit hurt at the interruption to his fun. Tony thought he probably looked the same when Gibbs made him stop playing Tetris on his phone.

NCISNCIS

"Boss?" said McGee hurrying up to Gibbs in a break during the morning session two days later.

"McGee?" said Gibbs, "why aren't you on your way to the coffee shop? I've been waiting."

"Uh, Boss," said McGee, "I've just been to a session on miniaturisation."

"Agent McGee," said Fornell, "I hope that doesn't mean that you're going to be moving Jethro down to Grande rather than Venti?"

"No, Agent Fornell," said McGee, "I'm not that brave. Or stupid."

Gibbs and Fornell nodded approvingly at each other. It did seem that McGee was finally beginning to relax a little among them.

"So," said Gibbs hoping to speed things up and reach caffeine time more quickly, "what's up?"

"The Pasquale case," said McGee, "neither the FBI nor NCIS have been able to find details of his passwords."

"So?" asked Gibbs.

"It seems odd that he didn't keep a list," said McGee, "from what I could tell when we were finding him, the passwords would have been too complex for him to remember without some sort of list or prompt."

"We're still looking, Agent McGee," said Fornell. "We'll find them. And if we don't, we'll just set your Boss on him."

"Yes," said Tim, "of course. But …"

"But what, McGee?" said Gibbs, "spit it out."

"Well, like I was saying. The seminar I've just been in was real interesting."

"You _listened_?" asked Fornell.

"Sure," said McGee, and he held up a notepad, "and I took notes. I can show them to you if you want."

"Just the short version, Tim," said Gibbs.

"Of course, Boss. Well, they had pictures."

"Modern technology, eh?" said Fornell, "it's wonderful what they can do these days."

Gibbs cracked a rare grin but nodded to Tim to get him to continue.

"Yes. They had pictures of things, objects that people had hidden valuables in. Pens, brooches, watches."

"We've checked all of Pasquale's stuff," said Fornell, "didn't find anything."

"I know," said McGee, "but they also had pictures of dog collars."

"And?" asked Gibbs.

"What if Pasquale's dog had a collar with a chip in it?"

"Lots of dogs have chips," pointed out Fornell.

"Not in their collars," said Gibbs, "McGee, do you think Pasquale's dog might have his passwords?"

"Could be, Boss," agreed Tim.

"Phone DiNozzo," ordered Gibbs, "get him to check that dog's collar."

"McGee might not be the only one to make the connection," said Fornell, "lots of other people would like to get hold of those passwords and get access to Pasquale's accounts. DiNutso might be in danger."

"Er … Boss," said Tim, "Tony's not answering."


	4. Chapter 4

"Dr Mallard."

"Duck. Have you seen DiNozzo?"

"Why, Jethro. How pleasant to hear from you. Have you enjoyed the conference? I hope Timothy has unwound a little."

"Duck, we're fine. Have you seen DiNozzo?"

"I saw him the day after you left for Chicago. He tried to sneak into work but I insisted that he take a few days of sick leave. He didn't look at all well. I do hope you don't want him to come into work. I really would advise most strongly against too early a resumption of his duties."

"No, Duck. Have you seen him since he went on sick leave?"

"Let me think. No, I haven't seen him. But lest you think that remiss of me, he left me a message to say that he was going to North Carolina for a few days. He thought his canine charge would be better suited to the freer environment there. I thought it was a most commendable decision although I had some doubts about the wisdom of such a long drive."

"And you haven't heard from him either?" persisted Gibbs.

"No, I haven't. But you know as well as I that cell phone reception is not always good in Milsom Bay and I don't believe that Anthony has a landline in his abode. Is something amiss, Jethro?"

"Don't know, Duck. We think Pasquale's dog might have a chip in his collar that could hold the key to his accounts."

"And if you think so, you are concerned that others may also have come to this conclusion?"

"We haven't been able to make contact with DiNozzo. Tried his landline and cell."

"Well, you would not have reached him at his apartment," said Ducky.

"Yeah. Didn't know he wasn't there. Makes sense he might not be able to pick up if he's headed to the coast."

"What are you going to do?" asked Ducky.

"I'll get McGee to book us on a flight to Wilmington," said Gibbs, "and we'll drive to Milsom Bay."

"I will try calling Mrs Lacy and John Sutherland," said Ducky, "they will know if he has arrived safely. I think I will travel to Milsom Bay as well. It would do no harm to check on Anthony."

"Good," said Gibbs, "keep in touch. I'll let you know the times of our flight."

"Jethro," said Ducky, "are you concerned? It seems rather a long shot that Anthony is in any trouble."

"I know, Duck," said Gibbs, "but my gut's saying something different."

"Then we must pay due heed to what it is saying to you," said Ducky, "I will make my phone calls and let you know the outcome."

NCISNCIS

Six hours later Gibbs drove into Milsom Bay with a slightly green-faced McGee and a Fornell who was holding on to his impassivity with difficulty. Ducky was waiting for them outside Millie's beach side café.

"Jethro," he said, "I have only just arrived myself. As you know, I was unable to contact either Sutherland or Mrs Lacy …"

Gibbs strode into the café where he was greeted by a young woman,

"Hello. My name is Beth. Welcome to Milsom Bay café. What can I get you today?"

"Where's Mrs Lacy?" demanded Gibbs.

"I'm afraid she's not available," said Beth, "but I can assure you that the service will be up to her standards. The donuts are freshly made, would you like some?"

"No!" said Gibbs, "look, we're federal officers. We need to see Mrs Lacy. Where is she?"

"Oh," said Beth, "um, well, she's in Hawaii."

"Hawaii?" said Gibbs.

"Yes, it was a last minute deal. And it's quiet at this time of year so she decided to go and get some sun," explained Beth.

"Hawaii is beautiful at this time of year," said Ducky, "I am sure she will have a wonderful time."

"Yes," said the kindly Beth, "she deserves a vacation. She works so hard. I was glad to help out."

"And are you from Milsom Bay, my dear?" asked Ducky.

"No. I'm from Raleigh but I worked here during the summer and I help out when she's busy."

"She must be very glad to have your help," said Ducky.

"D'you know a Tony DiNozzo?" said Gibbs impatiently, "he has a cabin down the road a piece?"

"No," said Beth regretfully, "I've heard of him, of course, but so far he hasn't been here when I've been working."

"Come on, Duck," said Gibbs, "let's go down to his place."

"But there was a message on Millie's answering machine," remembered Beth, "he said he was going to come down and stay for a few days. But he hasn't been here."

"Let's go to Sutherland's," said Gibbs.

"Oh, Mr Sutherland's away as well," said the helpful Beth.

"What?" demanded Gibbs, "where's he gone?"

"I think he's gone to stay with his son," said Beth nervously.

"Come on, Duck!"

"Thank you, my dear," said Ducky, "you have been most helpful. Yes, yes, I'm coming" he said as Gibbs roared for him again.

Shortly afterwards Gibbs pulled up outside Tony's 'shack'.

"This is DiNutso's?" asked Fornell, "I'm impressed. D'you think he'd let me stay here sometimes?"

Gibbs glared at him.

"Hey, sometimes it's good to have a place to get away from Diane."

"It does look good, Boss," said Tim, "haven't seen it since it was extended."

"It has almost an Arts and Crafts look," enthused Ducky, "the simplicity of the wood but the excellent craftsmanship is characteristic of that movement."

"If you've all finished admiring the place, DO YOU THINK WE COULD GET SOME WORK DONE?" bellowed Gibbs.

"Of course, Jethro." "Yes, Boss." "Keeo your hair on, Jethro," came a variety of responses.

"His car's not here," observed McGee, "but perhaps he's gone for a drive?"

"Are we going to effect an entry?" asked Ducky.

"I'm trying," said Gibbs, "seems that Tony's fitted a top of the range security lock."

"Didn't think you knew so much about locks, Jethro," said Fornell, "seeing as you don't have any in your house."

"I know enough," said Gibbs triumphantly as he got the lock open. They all trooped in.

"My word," said Ducky admiringly, "it's as pleasing inside as it is from the outside. Er … but, that doesn't matter at all at the moment. I will look in the bathroom to see if there is any sign that Anthony has been here."

McGee and Fornell similarly busied themselves in looking around the small house but it was soon clear that Tony was not there and probably had not been there for some time.

"What now, Boss?" asked McGee.

NCISNCIS

Tony spent more than one day at the campsite. He awoke on the first morning fully intending to head on to Milsom Bay but found himself unwilling to leave. He looked out the window to a cold misty world and shivered at the thought of driving away. He held the door open for Ruskin to go out and do his business and laughed at the bewildered expression on the dog's face; he had a feeling that Ruskin was used to warmer climates. Tony had spoken to John Sutherland the previous evening and knew that neither he nor Millie would be around in Milsom Bay for a while; with that in mind Tony decided it would be better to stay put for a couple of days until his sick leave sentence had expired and Ducky allowed him back to work.

With that decision made, Tony and Ruskin had a leisurely breakfast and then, with Ducky's prescription of healthy walks in mind, went to explore the area. Tony had stopped by the car to get his heavy coat out when he heard a screech of brakes and saw a car with dark tinted windows pull up. Two men jumped out of the car and began to walk towards Tony. Tony stiffened and began to move his hand surreptitiously towards his weapon but at that moment Ruskin came running out of the cabin and bounded enthusiastically towards two potential new friends. The new arrivals looked at Ruskin and then looked at each other and shook their heads before getting back in the car and driving off. Ruskin sat down looking disappointed.

"Never mind, Rusk," said Tony, "you've still got me."

He jotted down the licence plate and sent a text to Abby asking her to trace the car. Then he shrugged and called to Ruskin,

"Come on, boy. Walkies."

For a while, however, they stayed in a field near the car park so Tony could test out if Ruskin really did want to play fetch. It turned out that Ruskin loved to run after the ball when Tony threw it; unfortunately he liked the chase but wasn't very good at finding the ball so Tony usually had to find it himself. Unsurprisingly Tony tired of the game long before Ruskin did and he called a halt to the game in favour of a walk in the woods. Ruskin was, Tony reflected, an undemanding creature; having been delighted to run after all the ball he was now equally happy sniffing at the trees and following various scents. He was careful, however, always to keep Tony in sight and periodically would come back for reassurance that Tony was still there. Tony patted him each time he returned and wondered what had happened in Ruskin's life that made him seem to fear abandonment.

They walked for half an hour until they came to the top of a ridge where the land fell steeply beneath their feet.

"Come on, boy," said Tony, "we're not going down there, too much hard work. I'm sure Ducky said something about gentle walks not hill climbing."

Ruskin barked mournfully but followed Tony obediently.

"Good dog," said Tony, "how about we go to a video shop this afternoon and rent something to watch. How about 'Lassie come home'? I might pick up some tips on dog ownership. Or 'Greyfriars Bobby' – you could pick up some tips on master/dog dynamics."

As it happened Tony fell asleep after lunch and didn't wake up until Josie tapped on the door and presented him with a plate of beef stew. After that he was content to stay in the cabin, brush Ruskin and watch the dog trying to figure how to sneak up on McProbie.

NCISNCIS

"Abs," said Gibbs.

"Gibbs! How's the conference? How's McGee? Are you and Agent Fornell being nice to him?"

"Abby!" said Gibbs, "have you heard from DiNozzo?"

"Um …"

"Abby, have you heard from him or not?"

"Don't get mad, Gibbs."

"Why would I get mad?"

"Well, he's meant to be on sick leave."

"What's he done?"

"He asked me to trace a licence plate yesterday. But I don't think it's because he was working."

"OK. So did you trace it?"

"Not yet. I know you guys think I only work for you but I've been really busy these last few days. And Tony said it wasn't urgent."

"Abby. Do it now."

"Gibbs …"

"Please."

"I wasn't going to ask for the magic word. Not that I'm not pleased to get it. Is there something wrong? Why are you asking if I've heard from Tony?"

"We don't know where he is, Abs. We thought he'd gone to North Carolina but he's not here."

"_You're_ in North Carolina, Gibbs?"

"Are you tracing that plate?"

"You know I can do more than one thing at a time, Gibbs. In fact, I can do at least five and that's not including breathing 'cos I assume that nobody could do even one thing if they weren't breathing so I don't think breathing should count."

"Abby!"

"Yes, I'm tracing the plate. Why are you looking for Tony?"

"McGee has a theory. He went to a seminar on miniaturisation …"

"That's so cool," said Abby, "I _would_ love to have gone to that. Did Timmy take lots of notes?"

"I think so, you can ask him later … after you've traced that plate."

"It's still running. So why did McGee have a theory?"

"McGee. Tell Abby your theory."

"Hi, Abby," came Tim's voice instead of Gibbs.

"Tim," said Abby, "why's Gibbs worried about Tony?"

"I'm not sure _worried_ is the right word," said Tim cautiously.

"Oh, believe me, Tim," said Abby confidently, "Gibbs is worried. I can tell."

"Huh," said Tim, "you won't need Tony's 'Gibbs for Dummies' when he writes it."

"Is Tony going to write a book about Gibbs?" asked Abby momentarily distracted, "that would be so cool. Perhaps he could teach Gibbs as a class to probies? Gibbs 101 and he could teach another class with all the rules."

"Abby," said Tim patiently, "do you want to hear my theory or not?"

"I would love to hear your theory," said Abby earnestly, "I got distracted."

"It happens," observed Tim, "anyway, when I went to this seminar they had pictures of things that had been miniaturised so that they could be easily hidden. And they had a picture of a dog collar."

"That's so cool," said Abby, "perhaps I could get one and hide lots of things in it."

"What have you got to hide?" asked Tim, distracted in his turn.

"Oh, Timothy, lots of things," said Abby mysteriously, "so what theory did the dog collar set off for you?"

"Remember Pasquale's dog?"

"Is that like Schrodinger's cat?"

"What? No, our last case, Giovanni Pasquale. He had a dog."

"He did? And you think he might have hidden secrets in his dog's collar?"

"Yes. And Tony's got the dog."

"Tony's got the dog? But Tony doesn't like dogs. Or at least, he doesn't like the dog hair."

"Ducky thought it would be good for him," said Tim.

"Oh," said Abby, "oh, well, if the Duckman prescribed a dog, I'm sure it will be fine."

"Not if other people figure it out as well," said Tim.

"_Has Abby got that trace done yet?"_ Abby heard Gibbs say to Tim.

"Tell Gibbs the plate's just come back. It's registered to Paxton Inc."

Gibbs took the phone back from Tim, "Abby. That was one of the companies which did business with Pasquale."

"So the bad guys are after Tony?"

"Looks like it. Do a trace on Tony's phone."

"Uh, Gibbs," said Abby doubtfully, "It's not showing up. I think it must have been switched off. Why would Tony turn his cell off? He never turns his cell off."

"Calm down, Abby. It might be that it's out of range. Can you pick up where he last called from?"

"Boss, I called Tony the other day. Abby can trace that call."

"Abby, did you hear that? McGee phoned Tony recently, check the location. And check his credit cards, see if he's used them."

"On it. Gibbs, you don't think he crashed his car or anything do you? It was a long way to drive. He shouldn't have been driving if he was tired. And he was tired, you know, because he wasn't sleeping, what with the coughing and the bronchitis."

"Abs," said Gibbs, trying to calm her before she went into a downwards spiral of anxiety, "calm down."

"It's all right for you to say 'calm down'," said Abby, "you're not stuck here in the lab, analysing all sorts of nasty _stuff_; it makes me see the dark side. And that's not natural for me, I'm naturally an optimistic person, I want to believe the best of people, but this job is making that more and more difficult. I don't know what to do … oh …"

"Oh?" said Gibbs.

"Yes, 'oh'. His credit card shows that he visited 'HappiPet' in DC. Then he bought gas on the road to North Carolina and then …"

"Then?"

"Then he used his credit card at a campsite near Roanoke, on the edge of the George Washington National Forest. Gibbs, he's at a campsite. And that's where he was when McGee called him. He's all right."

"Was McGee's call before or after he asked you to trace that licence plate?"

"Before. Oh, so he might not be all right."

"Send McGee the address of the campsite. We'll go there. See if you can contact the campsite, ask if DiNozzo is still there.

"Anything else?"

"Tell the Director. Tell him to send an agent to check out DiNozzo's apartment, make sure everything's all right."

"You want me to _tell_ Director Vance what to do?" asked Abby.

"That a problem?" asked Gibbs.

"No," said Abby placidly, "just checking."

NCISNCIS

Tony woke up to another cold and bleak day with the threat of rain in the air but with more energy than he'd had for several days and reflected that Ducky's prescription of dog and rest had worked well.

"Tell you what," he said to Ruskin, "we'll find that video store today. I'm not renting 'Turner and Hooch' though, I don't want you getting any ideas about destroying this place."

Before going movie hunting, however, Tony decided to test out if Ruskin had become any better at fetch: after ten minutes of Tony fetching the ball for the ever willing but ever failing dog, he decided they would go for a walk instead. They retraced their steps of the day before and once again Ruskin was fascinated by the steepness of the ridge and stood happily on the edge looking down.

"Come on, boy," said Tony at last, "it's cold. Let's go back."

Ruskin's ears twitched as he seemed to hear something down beneath him and he ignored Tony in his absorption. Tony sighed and went to retrieve him and then found himself tumbling down the slope as the ground gave way beneath him. The fall lasted only a few seconds but it seemed to go forever to Tony as he bounced off stones and through bushes and branches. He lay winded at the bottom and wondered where Ruskin was. A whine and a lick of his face told Tony that the dog was close at hand.

"You all right, boy?" said Tony, as he patted the dog and looked for any injuries. It seemed that Ruskin had got off lightly although he was trembling with fear.

"Exciting, eh?" said Tony in as calm a voice as he could manage, "think we'd better have some Ruskin rules. Rule #1, no standing at the edge of cliffs. No, we'll make that Rule #2. Rule #1 is come when I call you."

Ruskin gave his customary intent look when Tony spoke, Tony could almost imagine that he was taking notes.

"OK, let's get out of here," said Tony, looking sadly at the steep incline, "or not," he said, as he tried to stand up and his ankle gave way beneath him. Ruskin looked puzzled at Tony's abrupt return to the ground. "Plan B," said Tony, "I'll phone for help … or not," he said as he pulled out the cell which had been smashed during his tumble. "I'll work on Plan C," he said as he felt the first drop of rain hit his face.


	5. Chapter 5

_Singing Silverwings kindly pointed out that I am geographically challenged! Although (honestly!) I did do some research it seems that Tony's campsite is much further from the North Carolina coast than I'd estimated. I couldn't think how to fix the anomaly so I've left the locations and timeline unchanged with the result that Gibbs & Co reach the campsite twice as fast as normal people would. If you think this will ruin the story for you then it would probably be best if you skip this chapter. Mea culpa!_

* * *

><p>"Gibbs, Gibbs", came Abby's voice when he answered the phone and put it on speaker.<p>

"What you got, Abby?" he asked.

"I just spoke to the lady who runs the campsite. Her name's Josie. She sounds real nice. She's been looking after Tony."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, she's been making him casseroles and stuff."

"Splendid," said Ducky from the back seat, "home-cooked fresh food will be very good for Anthony. Just what this doctor ordered."

"And she says that the cabin is really warm and cosy. She showed Tony how to use the wood-burner."

"It sounds as if he's really fallen on his feet," observed Ducky.

"Yeah," said Tim, "apart from not being able to answer his cell and possibly being tracked by violent criminals."

"Quite right, Timothy," said Ducky remorsefully, "I had momentarily forgotten the more sinister aspects of our expedition."

"Abs," said Gibbs, "has this Josie seen Tony today?"

"No. She said that she's away overnight so she took him some mac and cheese to heat up later. She says she's got a special recipe that's really good. She's going to let me have a copy. My mom used to make the _best_ mac and cheese but I haven't got her recipe …"

"Abs," said Gibbs in a warning voice.

"Sorry. Well, she said she went in about midday but Tony wasn't there but she said that he talked about going to a video store to rent some dog movies."

"Was his car still there?" asked Gibbs.

"She can't remember," said Abby, "she's not a trained observer like us, Gibbs, and it didn't worry her that she didn't find Tony in the cabin so she wasn't looking out for anything odd."

Gibbs grunted, which either meant that he thought everyone should be legally required to learn basic observational skills or that he had finished his coffee.

"Should we go look for movie stores, Boss?" asked McGee. "I could call Agent Fornell and I could go with him in Ducky's car."

"No," said Gibbs, "we'll stick together. We don't know which store he'd go to. We'll head for the campsite, he may have turned up by then."

It was dark by the time they arrived at their destination in the late evening.

"There's Tony's car," said McGee, "outside that cabin. Abby said he's in _Glade Serenity_. I think that's the name over the door."

Gibbs grunted, relieved that Tim's eyesight was good enough to pick out the name. He walked towards the cabin.

"What a charming place," said Ducky, "I must ask Anthony if he has enjoyed his sojourn here. If he gives a favourable report I may consider taking a vacation here myself. I remember a most enjoyable stay I had in Canada a few years ago …" He was interrupted by the sound of barking from the door of the cabin and they saw a small dog running towards them.

"Hello, boy," said McGee, "we haven't got time to play", and he tried to push the animal away so he could knock on the cabin door. "Uh, no answer, Boss," he said.

"I can see that, McGee," said Gibbs crossly. "Is this the dog DiNozzo's been looking after?"

"No," said Fornell, "Pasquale's dog is a pug. This one is … well, I don't know what it is."

"I believe it is a Cavachon," said the knowledgeable Ducky, "it is a cross between a … but that's not important at the moment," and he followed Gibbs into the cabin. Ruskin trailed in afterwards and, seeming to identify Gibbs as the leader of this new pack, tried to get his attention.

"Down, boy," said Gibbs, as he scanned Tony's cabin.

"Uh, Boss," said McGee uncertainly, "pugs don't really need brushing."

"Well, thank you Agent McGee for that useful piece of information," said Gibbs sternly, "but I'm not doing research into the benefits of pugs as pets. I have more _important_ things on my mind."

"Yes, Boss, of course Boss. I didn't mean to imply that you wanted to know about grooming pugs. It's just …"

"Just what, Tim?" asked Gibbs impatiently.

"Er, when I called Tony he said he was about to brush the dog."

"McGee!"

"This dog brush has white hairs in it," observed Fornell, "perhaps this dog has attached itself to DiNutso?"

"What is the name of Pasquale's dog?" asked Ducky.

"Um, wait a minute. Let me look it up," said Fornell, he looked in a notebook and said, "Eduardo."

"Not Ruskin?" said Ducky.

"No, definitely Eduardo."

"Why, Duck?" asked Gibbs.

"When I spoke to Anthony he referred to the dog in his charge as Ruskin. I commented that it was unusual to name a dog after a great English thinker and artist of the Victorian era," he paused, and looked at the dog, "Ruskin?" The dog ran towards Ducky and sat down on his feet.

"I believe this dog is Ruskin and is the dog Anthony has been looking after," said Ducky.

"So where's Pasquale's dog?" asked Fornell anxiously.

"Boss, I think I know!" said McGee excitedly.

"Are you going to share, McGee?" said Gibbs ominously, "you should know by now that I don't do guessing games."

"Tony's neighbour, Mrs Gordon. He told me that she's really proud of her late husband being a distant relation of some English general who was called Gordon."

Ducky opened his mouth to give a brief history of General Gordon of Khartoum but thought better of it when he saw the expression on Gibbs' face.

"So?" said Gibbs.

"He said that she, Mrs Gordon … Gloria, had got a new dog and it was keeping Tony awake. What if …"

"What if he swapped dogs with Mrs Gordon," said Ducky, "he left the pug with her and took her new dog, who was not getting on with Khartoum. I think you're right, Timothy. It would make sense that someone interested in British history would name a new dog after an eminent Victorian."

"So, Eduardo has been in the apartment above DiNozzo's all this time?" said Gibbs.

"Looks like we've been on a wild goose chase," said Fornell cheerfully, "and you've told me the derivation of that saying before, Dr Mallard, so you don't need to tell me again."

"Except we don't know where Tony is," pointed out Gibbs. He felt something tug at his pant leg and looked down to see Ruskin's teeth sink in. "Hey," he said, "cut it out!" Ruskin looked up with a hurt expression on his face but, bravely, didn't let go.

"Boss, you don't think? You don't think Buskin knows where Tony is, do you?"

"Ruskin," corrected Ducky softly but nobody heard.

"Let's find out," said Gibbs, "come on, boy. Where do you want to go?"

Perhaps Ruskin had watched lots of canine movies in a previous life or perhaps it was just instinct to find his master. Whatever the reason, he led his three new companions through the wood to the top of the ridge where they halted and looked over anxiously.

NCISNCIS

Tony and Ruskin spent an unpleasant day stranded at the bottom of the hill. It continued to be wet and cold all day and Tony didn't really appreciate the irony of being thirsty at the same as water fell out of the skies on him. He tried opening his mouth to trap water but found that he tended to cough before any reached him. Ruskin did better as Tony had some treats in his coat pocket which he fed him during the day.

Tony tried shouting but he knew it was unlikely that he would be heard. Josie was out for the day and he was the only guest at the moment.

"I think I'll just rest up for a bit," he told Ruskin, "might have just jarred my ankle. Don't worry, we'll be all right."

Tony was glad he had dressed up warmly for the walk but he got colder as the day went on. Ruskin spent most of his time curled up on Tony's lap, giving and receiving warmth and Tony was glad not to be on his own. Ruskin was a good listener and seemed to enjoy hearing the plots of the various canine movies Tony had planned to rent for them although it might have been that he just liked the sound of a human voice.

"I always wanted a dog," confided Tony, "but Senior wouldn't let me. I guess he was right. I couldn't have taken a dog to school and I was at Camp a lot but it would have been nice to come home to something who was _glad_ to see me."

Ruskin nudged Tony with his head in apparent sympathy with the sadness in Tony's voice.

"Although," continued Tony, "if you can get an adult into this much trouble, who knows what bother a dog would have got a teenage me into?"

Ruskin nudged Tony again as if to say that Tony was entirely welcome for this particular sticky situation.

As night began to fall, Tony decided to try putting weight on his ankle again. He was relieved to find that it was a bit steadier and he thought he could make a bit of progress. He had been looking at the slope down which they had tumbled and he thought he could see a potential path back up to the top. He urged Ruskin ahead of him and the dog bounded forward. Tony still found it hard going and had to stop to rest but, seeing that Ruskin was finding it easier, he encouraged him on.

"Go on," he said, "find Josie. Go on!"

Ruskin looked a bit uncertain but, for almost the first time in their acquaintance, decided to obey Tony's command. He continued to climb up and soon stood at the top of the ridge, looking down.

"Go on," said Tony, "good boy. Go find Josie!"

Ruskin trotted off and Tony felt an unexpected pang of loneliness as his companion left. He rested for a while and then the clouds cleared away allowing the moon to spill some light on his surroundings.

"Up we go," he said to himself, "Ruskin will want feeding and Josie will have left something for me to eat."

He pulled himself to his feet and resumed his climb trying to ignore the pain from his ankle.

"Come on, Anthony," he said, "final quarter of the game, one last effort and we can win the game. Come on, Buckeye, you can do this!"

Tony continued to climb and finally saw the top within reach. He went two more steps and grabbed for a tree stump he could see at the edge. He let the stump take his weight and then, to his horror, felt it shift and begin to topple towards him; as he began to fall back down the slope he suddenly felt something stop his descent,

"Need a hand, DiNozzo?" came the dry tones of Gibbs.

"Two would be better, Boss," gasped Tony.

McGee hurried to help Gibbs and together they pulled Tony the last couple of paces up the slope and to safety.

"Not that I'm complaining," said Tony, as he sat on the ground trying to catch his breath, "but what are you doing here?"

"Heard your landlady makes a good mac and cheese," said deadpanned Gibbs, "come on, let's get you back to the cabin."

NCISNCIS

Once back in the cabin Ducky ordered Tony to have a hot bath while he and Gibbs prepared some food. Tony emerged pink and shiny and allowed Ducky to examine him.

"Your chest sounds a lot clearer than it did, my boy," he said, "you've twisted your ankle but I'll strap it up for you and you should be able to walk on it a bit more easily in a couple of days. Considering you spent the day out in the wet and cold you're in remarkably good shape."

"The DiNozzo body is always in good shape," said Tony boastfully but then, catching sight of Gibbs' raised eyebrow, amended this to, "well, perhaps not always … and anyway, I had a hot water bottle with me, didn't I?" He looked at Ruskin as he said this and the dog happily left Gibbs and came to sit at Tony's feet.

"So why did you ditch Pasquale's dog?" asked Gibbs.

"I went to see Gloria that first night, to ask her about looking after pugs. Khartoum and Eduardo hit it off immediately and Ruskin seemed OK with me. So we agreed a swap, a temporary swap: she hadn't been getting any sleep either with Khartoum and Rusk sniping away at each other so it seemed to make sense."

Gibbs nodded. "That van that you asked Abby to trace …"

"Yeah?"

"Registered to Paxton Inc."

"They were in cahoots with Pasquale, weren't they?" asked Tony.

"Yeah. We think they were looking for his dog."

"Makes sense," said Tony, "they were doing this whole menacing walk towards me when Ruskin trotted out. They took one look at him and hopped back into the van and went off. Thought it was odd, Rusk isn't so scary that two hulks like them would have been intimidated. How did they find me?"

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, "they must have found out the FBI had handed the dog over to you. Guess they located you the same way as we did in the end, found out where you used your credit card. McGee'll know."

"Technology, eh?" said Tony, "not always our friend."

"You're right there," said Gibbs in a tone of voice that implied it was never a friend to him.

"I hope Gloria's OK," said Tony.

"McGee and Fornell are on their way to check on her," said Gibbs reassuringly.

"Good," said Tony, "don't want that baking marvel to be off form."

"Speaking of food," said Ducky, turning from the stove, "dinner is served. Not my best effort but I think I have managed to concoct something to go with the mac and cheese."

"Ducky," said Tony enthusiastically, "I'm ready for anything you 'concoct'.

Tony awoke the next morning to the sound of Gibbs on his cell.

"You sure, Tim? OK, well, it was a good idea. No, stay there, we'll be heading back later on."

"Boss?" said Tony, "something wrong?"

"Tim had a theory that Pasquale's dog might be wearing a collar that had a chip hidden in it. Thought it might hold his passwords and stuff. Turns out that the dog wasn't wearing a collar at all."

"And that's why you started looking for me?" asked Tony, "because of Tim's theory?"

"And because Jethro's gut was churning," added Ducky.

"Wow," said Tony, "I might be lying back at the bottom of that hill if you hadn't come along. Thanks, Boss."

"Thank McGee," said Gibbs, "it was his idea, and a good one."

"Well done, that man," said Tony.

"I'm going to head back to DC," said Ducky, "I've prepared a healthy breakfast for you, Anthony. I would wait but I don't like to leave Mr Palmer unsupervised for too long, especially when Abby is in the building. She sometimes leads him astray. No, don't get up, Anthony, I will see myself out. No doubt I will see you later, Jethro. And remember, Anthony, you have another two days of sick leave."

Gibbs and Tony watched Ducky leave and then Gibbs said,

"McGee says the van you reported to Abby was parked across the street from your apartment when they got there. Looks as if they've been keeping watch. Mrs Gordon just walked the dogs in the yard area behind the building, it's been too cold for her to take them for proper walks. Lucky for her, probably."

"Has Fornell got a plan?" asked Tony.

"They're going to get an agent to take Eduardo for a walk in the park," said Gibbs, "see if they make a move."

"Better warn Sid," said Tony, "and Serena and Cherry."

"Who are they?" asked Gibbs.

"I've made a lot of new friends because of Ruskin," said Tony.

"I remember when my mom died," said Gibbs, "my dad got me a dog, yellow Labrador retriever. I loved that dog. Used to talk to him all the time."

"Yeah," said Tony, "Ruskin's a good listener too."

"Ducky was concerned about you, Tony," said Gibbs.

"He just said I was better," said Tony.

"Not the bronchitis," said Gibbs, "he thought you were worried. Were you?"

Tony gave a nonchalant shrug but encountered that raised eyebrow again,

"OK, I was a bit worried that the bronchitis might be something which would come back. Can't be a field agent if you have to keep out of the rain."

"And now?"

"Ducky reassured me, and hey, I spent all day sitting in the cold and wet yesterday and I'm fine."

Again, that eyebrow.

"OK, well, I'm no worse than I was before."

"That all that was worrying you?"

"Didn't help that the Director ordered you to take McGee to Chicago … and that you agreed."

"You were better off staying back and getting rest," pointed out Gibbs but, seeing Tony's disappointed face, relented, "but you were my first choice to come. Tony, you're always my first choice."

Tony's face broke into a beaming smile which didn't fade when Gibbs added, "but it was fun to watch McGee cope with being with me and Tobias! I'm not sure it was the rest that Ducky wanted for him."

"Do you think Gloria will be able to keep Eduardo?" asked Tony a bit later after he and Gibbs had eaten their healthy breakfast and were nursing cups of coffee as they sat by the wood-burner.

"Don't know," said Gibbs, "don't see why not. Pasquale's going down for a long time. Don't think he'll be able to take his dog with him to jail."

"Hmmm," said Tony.

"What you going to do about Ruskin?" asked Gibbs.

Ruskin looked up from stalking his McProbie toy when he heard his name.

"Don't know," said Tony, "I don't think Gloria will want him back. Him and Khartoum didn't play well together."

"You could keep him," suggested Gibbs.

"Me? Keep a dog," said Tony, "wouldn't be fair. I'm not home enough. I have this Boss who makes me work ridiculous hours. You can't leave a dog on its own that much."

"You could pay someone to walk him, look in on him," said Gibbs, "other people do it."

Ruskin seemed to know he was being talked about; he came and bumped his head against Tony's leg and looked up at him. Tony patted his head,

"I would miss him," he admitted, "and we've got a ton of dog movies to watch. I'll think about it."

Gibbs nodded in satisfaction.

"Boss," said Tony, "what time did you leave Chicago to get here?"

"Don't forget we did a detour to Milsom Bay," said Gibbs, "that's why it took us longer than it should have. We left about 9.30."

"Oh," said Tony, "that's a coincidence. I reckon that's about the time that Ruskin and I were tumbling down that ridge."

"You know what I feel about coincidences," said Gibbs, as he remembered how his gut had been churning that morning.

"True," said Tony, "oh, Boss."

"What?"

"Tim's theory about Eduardo's collar?"

"What about it?"

"I had the same idea. The collar's in the evidence garage at the Navy Yard. You might want to get Abby to start testing it."

The head slap was not entirely unexpected.

* * *

><p><em>AN: thank you to everyone who readreviewed/followed the story of Tony and his dog. I am returning the characters to their creators in almost pristine condition. _

_I don't intend to borrow them again for a while as I'm going to take a break from tormenting Tony and his co-workers!_


End file.
